“You must be an unusually quick observer,” he said presently, “to distinguish these things so readily. In my land young ladies do not much trouble themselves——”
Suddenly, Zonella laid her hand upon his arm and leaned forward with a look of fervid earnestness.
“Who is this man?” she asked. “What is his name, and what brings him here, and just at such a time, too?” This last seemed to be said more to herself than to her companion.
“He is called Monella,” Jack told her. “I know of no other name; and, as to why he is here, I can no more tell you that than why you yourself are here. In some things he keeps his own counsel absolutely, and is altogether inscrutable.”
“Ah!” Zonella said this with a long breath. “Then, though he is your friend, and you are here together, you really know nothing of him. Is that what you mean?”
“Well,” returned Jack slowly, “it’s rather an abrupt way of putting it, but—well, I never thought of it in that light before—but—I really think you have about hit it.”
“Yes! You and he have met by chance, and have agreed to travel together for a time. And you have let him bring you here, I suppose, without troubling yourself to ask him his objects?” Zonella went on, still with her glance fixed on Monella.
Jack opened his eyes.
“You have a very direct way of putting things, I must say,” he laughed. “But again, I am bound to admit you are not far out.”